3 Sides to a Circle
Page 5
Swimsuits are hard enough, but lingerie? I can’t even say the word without blushing. Auditioning, if I go, is going to be a disaster, and I’ll never get the job anyway. Being part of a Seven denim ad campaign is one thing, but underwear is completely different. The bubble of hope over actually getting this chance is an easy one for me to pop.
We mumble through a few more details about campus and classes and Dad’s schedule, but my brain is swirling from the barrage of questions I’m about to get from Libby. God, and Toby was in the room too. Why did Toby have to be in the room?
“Love you, Honor.” Dad frowns a little like he does when he’s not ready to go but needs to. “Next time I hope to have more warning so we can talk longer.”
“Okay. Love you, Dad.” I give a slight wave before his screen goes blank.
“The third book came out this week!” Mom sings before holding up the book cover. My stomach rolls over. Not this too.
I’ve seen the picture. I know what it looks like. Why did she do this?
“I got copies for you, and your aunt Rachel, and—”
“Thanks, Mom. I’m wiped. I’ll see you for Thanksgiving, okay?” Anything to be done with this.
“Love you!” Mom waves frantically again before her screen goes black.
I don’t move.
“Holy shit, Honor.” Libby’s voice is actually subdued. “Talk.”
I spin around in my desk chair, having a hard time pulling in air because my chest is so tight.
Toby’s face is a little red and he’s not making eye contact, which is the exact reason I don’t tell people. Libby’s got a smirk that says she’s either known all along or that she’s impressed with me for not letting on.
“It’s not a big deal.” I shake my head. “I’ve done a few…” I have to swallow twice to push down some of the lump in my throat. “Modeling-type things.”
“Victoria’s Secret?” Her smirk turns a bit curious and smug.
Toby stares at his shoes.
I want to dissolve into the chair. “My agent got a call about maybe—”
“You have an agent?” Libby’s leaning forward. “This is so…just… Damn, Honor. People don’t bowl me over often, but this shit bowled me over.”
I bite my lip and try to fold my hair over my barrette again.
“I need to see this book with your face on the cover.” She digs in her giant box of Libby stuff and emerges with a black hoodie and a flashlight.
“What are you doing?” I ask, really hoping that we won’t have to talk about me anymore. “I can find you a picture on Amazon or something.”
“Please?” Libby pushes out her lower lip and clutches my arm, and I can feel my resolve weakening the longer she holds me.
“Amazon?” I ask again, knowing already what her answer will be.
She pecks me on the cheek. “Won’t count if it’s not in person. Don’t worry. I know a guy with a key.”
My stomach’s in knots as Libby slides her friend Rob’s keys into the lock of the back room of the local bookstore. I have no idea how she got them, and I don’t want to know. She went into his dorm room alone and came out with keys. I don’t want to know more than that, and I definitely don’t want to be here.
“We can see the pictures of the book covers online, Libby. Or tomorrow. Didn’t you mention something about a party?” Yes, I’m this desperate. I grasp her arm. “Please let’s not break into the bookstore.”
“We’re not breaking in.” She pulls open the door and wags her brows. “We have a key.”
Toby glances in my direction but then stares at the ground again as he steps inside, obviously avoiding looking at me. I hate this. We’re supposed to be friends and now he’s acting all weird, and I know it’s over the modeling Victoria’s Secret thing because he’s never weird like this around me. Toby is my sanity next to Libby’s insanity—it’s a good balance, and one I can’t have disrupted.
“I’m totally still Googling you when we get home,” Libby says as she turns on the light in the backroom.
Great. Let’s remind everyone about something I’d much rather keep private.
Boxes upon boxes of books line shelves in the cramped space, but Libby pushes through and into the front of the store.
“Libby.” I stand in the threshold of the back room and stare as she disappears into rows of books. “Please. Let’s just go. I’ll do your laundry for a week. I’ll stop complaining about having to switch beds because you don’t know where to put things. Anything. Can we please go?”
My body’s weak with fear of being caught. There are probably cameras everywhere. This is insane.
Toby steps around me and sighs. “Libby?”
“I’m looking!” she hollers from somewhere around the corner of the vast store.
I lean against the back wall, having no interest in seeing my face on a book and wishing I’d refused to come in the first place.
“Why are we here?” I ask Toby.
“Because it’s maybe nice to be around someone who doesn’t live in the real world.” He doesn’t look at me, just adjusts his glasses, staring off in the direction Libby disappeared. He looks…maybe a bit jealous. Or in awe over her. Or maybe he’s watching her in a way I haven’t picked up on before now. I’m terrible at reading people.
I’m so small. Suddenly I’m the smallest person there ever was because I don’t want this. I don’t want to be here. I wasn’t ready for Libby and Toby’s vision of me to be tainted by anything but me. “I’m in the real world,” I whisper.
Toby’s eyes find mine, and the safeness of him crashes in on me, taking my breath. Mostly I’m starting to get how much I need him and me to be friends, because he and Libby are my safe place, and they both seem like a bit of a gamble. Though, everyone seems like a bit of a gamble because I don’t have any of the childhood friends that I think everyone else has.
“We’re friends, right?” I ask. Please say yes. I can’t handle losing his friendship or there being awkwardness over the stupid thing I sometimes do on weekends.
“I…” He pauses and stares as I reach out and grab his arm, suddenly needing this as much as I need to get out of this bookstore.
Instead of jerking away, he takes my hand and shakes it with a weird attempt at a relaxed smile. “Of course we’re friends.”
I know he’s trying to play cool, but he’s still weirded out, I can tell. I hate this, and it’s probably one of the reasons I haven’t jumped into the modeling thing the way Mom would like me to. “Let’s get her out of here.”
When we find Libby, she’s sitting in the kids’ book section, brow furrowed and reading. The model of the universe and posters they have hanging from the ceiling in this part of the store give the corner a magical feel. One small light from the corner casts sideways shadows over the children’s books and splashes shadows of the mobiles across the walls.
“What on earth?” I ask quietly.
“This is the most damn depressing book. I remember reading it in elementary. I cried so hard my teacher sent me to the nurse.”
She holds up The Giving Tree. “That is one fucked-up thing to read to little kids.”
I nod and so does Toby, and with four honest sentences from Libby, we’ve forgotten we’re supposed to be dragging her out of here.
“Now this…” She pulls a different book from the shelf. “This one is a classic.”
Toby turns his head sideways. “Everyone Poops?”
The laugh bursts out of my mouth before I remember to stop it. I need no more references to my “do-me” laugh.
“Like I said, it’s a classic.” She nods seriously. “And practical.”
“Okay.” Toby gestures with his head toward the back door. “Let’s get out of here.”
Only now I’m not sure if I want to go. Each car passing by makes even more cool patterns on the wall as it comes through the front windows of the bookstore, and we’re in the cozy back corner…
Libby ignores him and slides that on
e back, pulling yet another from the shelf, still with this look of mock-seriousness. “Another fabulous read. Don’t Let the Pigeon Stay Up Late. Brilliant. Simple. And something both children and adults can relate to.”
“Libby? Maybe we should…” I say. Only part of me actually wants her to comment on every book back here. For Toby and me to grab a beanbag and pretend we’re children because it would make so much more sense for us to follow her if we were. Then we could stay here with her all night, and it wouldn’t be breaking the law or weird, we’d just be. I’m not sure the cops or whoever owns this bookstore would get it, though.
“And The Cross-With-Us Rhinocerous. Hard to find, but worth it when you do.” Her fingers skim the edge of the book before putting it back.
I glance at Toby, feeling like maybe something’s changed. Something’s wrong. Libby’s too quiet.
“And this one.” She stops for so long that I hold my breath.
When I glance at Toby, I swear he’s doing the same. How can one person’s mood suck in everyone around them? Or maybe it’s that Toby and I want so desperately to be a part of the alternate universe where Libby normally lives that we’ll do anything.
“What a fuckload of bullshit!”
She throws the book against the far shelf with such force that it slams through the store, and I wish I could know what’s going through her head right now.
Everyone freezes for a moment, then Libby’s loud, manic laugh ricochets off the walls as her grin fills her face.
“Okay. We gotta go.” Toby grabs her hand and starts running for the door. Libby follows, still laughing, like nothing crazy just happened. And maybe nothing did. Maybe she’s just screwing around like she does, but I’m stuck in the same spot of the children’s book section.
I pick up the book to set it on a shelf before following. I’ll Love You Forever. The pages crumpled to the point of the book never being able to be sold, and I contemplate taking it with us, but it seems cruel somehow so I fold in the pages the best I can and hide it behind some doodle books.
“Hurry up!” Libby’s cheery voice calls. “You wouldn’t want the cops thinking you orchestrated this yourself, and I got you a copy of the book with your face on the cover!”
Chapter Eight
Toby
Libby’s back at Rob’s dorm, dropping the bookstore key off as Honor and I stand outside. Honor. Victoria’s Secret. My head still feels like it’s going to explode imagining her walking around in one of those miracle bras or thongs and angel wings or whatever. I mean, Jesus, Victoria’s Secret. I’m doomed to imagine my two best friends in thongs for the rest of my life.
And I know Honor needs me not to be weird about it. I could tell from the look on her face. So I won’t be. Plus, I’m still kind of spinning from the trip to the bookstore, and the book that Libby’s been clutching with Honor’s face on it.
“That was nuts,” I say.
Honor nods, but then smiles a little, her cheeks flushed with excitement. “I’ve never broken into a place. I mean, snuck in when it’s closed. I always sort of wanted to. Like in that book where the kids sleep in the Metropolitan Museum of Art for a week.”
I grin. “The Mixed-Up Files of Mrs. Basil E. Frankenweiler. I loved that book. I can’t tell you how many times I thought about running away to live in a museum. But you know…Nebraska doesn’t exactly have a Met.”
Honor laughs. “I’ll bet.”
“Libby’s crazy.”
Honor nods, still sort of smiling. “Yeah. Like no one I know.”
I start to ask about the book she threw, but I’m interrupted by Libby pouncing out of the door.
“Okay,” she says, rubbing her hands. “Party.”
“I thought we were going to have our own party.” This was the big plan she’d first suggested to me days ago. Do Jell-o shots in my room until Honor got drunk because Libby was certain Honor would be a hilarious drunk. Which actually, she may.
“We were. But I’ve scrapped that because there’s a party at Blue Light House and we’re going.”
Honor’s eyes get shifty and I know she’s thinking the same thing I am. Blue Light House is an off-campus house of four senior guys. Rumors about naked parties have been going around about that house since I got to school. By the look on Honor’s face, she’s heard them too.
“Um, Libby…”
Libby hooks her arms in each of ours and pulls us towards Main Street. “Don’t worry, this one isn’t a naked party. I checked. Not that we shouldn’t start gearing up for that in case Honor gets the Victoria’s Secret gig.” She waggles her eyebrows and suddenly I’m staring up at the stars and trying to think of baseball instead of Honor without clothes on.
“Are we going to know anyone there?” Honor asks and I can see that the glow from our bookstore adventure has left her cheeks, replaced by pale anxiety.
Libby smirks. “Well, I will. Because I’m excellent at meeting people. Don’t worry, though. You’re going to be my girlfriend for the night so you’ll meet lots of people too.”
Honor freezes. “What?”
Libby laughs and twirls around. “I know. It’s brilliant. You won’t have to worry about guys hitting on you and getting all panicky. And I won’t have to worry about fending off the masses. Win-win.”
“But…but…people will think we’re a couple.”
Libby claps her hands. Like a kid. “I know. It’ll be perfect. You have no idea how hot guys get thinking about the mystique of girl-girl action. Tell her, Toby.”
Jesus Christ. I am now dying. Seriously dying. Because my head is suddenly filled with Libby and Honor in thongs and angel wings kissing each other and I think I’ve stopped breathing.
Libby laughs so hard at the look on my face that she tips sideways. “Oh my fucking God, do you see that face? Poor Toby. I feel like someone should blow him just to relieve some of this pressure.”
“I think I’m gonna go…” I squeak out. Baseball. Fat guys with chewing tobacco. Rainy days. Hairy moles. Please, brain, stop thinking of hot girls in angel wings.
Then suddenly Honor is laughing too. Her beautiful laugh and she’s leaning against Libby and the two of them are pointing at me. And I start to laugh too. Because it’s turned into that kind of night.
“Toby…” Libby says.
I hold up a hand. “Okay. Enough. We’ll go to the party. But seriously, Libby, no more talk about you and Honor. Because if I’m being honest here, there’s really only so much a guy can take.”
Libby grins. “You’re right. I’m sorry. You didn’t really deserve that tease. We’ll just get it over with so you don’t have to walk around for the next few months with those thoughts in your head.”
“Wha—?” Honor starts to say, but she’s cut off by Libby’s tongue pushing into her mouth and her hands cupping her cheeks.
Honor squeaks and pushes, but Libby nips on her bottom lip and sticks her tongue in more. And then I’m not exactly sure what is happening beyond two girls making out in front of me. Two really hot girls. Jesus.
Libby finally releases Honor and they’re both kind of breathing hard. And Honor doesn’t look horrified, but she doesn’t look turned on either. Mostly just stunned. Which I think is kind of how it always goes with Libby.
“Good mouth,” Libby says. “It’s soft. I think Sawyer will approve. So ready?”
And it’s like nothing happened. Like Libby has no clue I’m even more sexually frustrated now. And like Honor isn’t staggered by the fact that she was just kissed for probably the first time by a girl. A crazy girl who also happens to be living with her.
Libby pouts. “Oh, come on. Do you need me to kiss Toby now so we’re all square?”
Yes. The word flashes into my brain and I can’t let go of it. Because if I kissed Libby, I’d be tasting them both. And yeah, that wouldn’t suck.
“Sure,” Honor says and she looks sort of worried, which I’m not sure what that’s about. “But don’t kiss me again. I’m not into girls.”
/> Libby. “Honor. You’re eighteen. How do you know what you’re into? This is college. You’re supposed to experiment.”
“I know I’m not into getting involved with my roommate.”
And this time we all laugh even though I’m sorta wondering what the hell happened to my kiss. Though, to be honest, I probably couldn’t take it. Not tonight.
“Fair enough,” Libby says. “But you’re still gonna wanna pretend at the party. Trust me. It’ll save you from a world of bad come-ons.”
“And what am I supposed to do at this party?” I say. The color is starting to come back into Honor’s cheeks and the intensity of the kiss has totally dissipated, which I guess is the way with Libby.
Libby rubs her chin in mock-thought. “I don’t know. What’s the male equivalent of a fag hag?”
“Forget it,” I mumble. I grab the girls’ hands and walk toward the party.
Blue Light House is packed when we get there. Bodies are pressed so tightly in together that I can’t even get near the keg for almost an hour. I keep my eye on Honor and Libby while I’m waiting. Libby keeps her hand on Honor’s back and at first, Honor is tense and moves away, but after the second guy slides up behind her and wraps his arms around her waist, she sticks to Libby like glue.
The haze of weed smoke is everywhere, and the music is so loud that I couldn’t even talk to the guy in front of me if I wanted to. Which I don’t. All I want is out of here. I was never a party guy in high school. I’m not great in crowds. And it’s even more true in college. I’ve always been a better listener than talker. Plus, the lights in the house actually are blue, and red, which is giving me the worst kind of headache and making me think that the ratty patterned carpet is covered in bugs.
By the time I get to the keg, the beer is so sudsy in our cups that I know we’ve reached the bottom. If they don’t come in with more beer, the place’ll empty out pretty soon. I make my way to Libby and Honor and find them with beer cups already.